


Hotbox

by Ducks



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/F, Femslash, RPS - Freeform, rpfs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-21
Updated: 2009-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ducks/pseuds/Ducks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing goes right on the set of Megan's new movie, until something does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotbox

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe this is the origin of the Mountain Ox Incident, which I totally didn't know about before writing this. Just pretend that they were in a movie together a while ago, and... oh, shut up. It's PWP, who cares?
> 
> Originally written for femslash_today's Fireworks '09: (Completely Not) Annual Porn Battle! Prompt: sweat

The director snarls rather than calls cut, and Megan has to drag herself back to her trailer, exhausted and sick from the tropical heat. Whoever called Hawaii paradise on earth had obviously never had to run half a mile 27 times wearing four-inch heels and a skintight evening gown through a jungle in the armpit of August.

It had been one of those shoots where nothing went quite as planned: the script required daily re-writing, the crew could never get the lighting or her makeup right because of the humidity, and the entire mess was just falling further and further behind schedule every minute.

And then, of course, there was that snotty diva bitch, Olivia... whateverthehell her name was. Welch or Wilder or something stupid like that. She wouldn't even look Megan in the face, let alone give her the time of day other than when they were in scenes together, and that was just fine with her. She didn't have to put up with any shit from some second rate hack bitch whose claim to fame was playing a fake bisexual on television, for chrissake.

Megan practically ripped her arm out of the socket trying to pry open the stupid, piece of shit trailer door that she had asked someone to fix like five times in the week they had been here. She had to pull the handle out and up, then push the door in at least three times before she got the fucking thing open, and she was ready to just kill somebody by the time she got inside.

It was tough to choose what pissed her off more: the fact that on top of every fucking thing else, it was about six billion degrees in this glorified freaking tin can they insisted on calling a trailer, which clearly meant they hadn't bothered to fix the air conditioning *either*...

Or that Olivia Wicked or whatever her cheezy slut face was currently sat on the lumpy piece of crap Megan was forced to use as a couch, smiling sweetly at her.

"Your a/c is out," her uninvited PEST reported.

"What? The fuck? Are you doing in my trailer?"

The friendly smile vanished. "I thought we should talk, since--"

Megan cut her off with a curt sweep of her hand. "I don’t care. I have absolutely no desire to talk to anybody except somebody who can get me a new goddamned trailer, and unless you are here to offer me *yours*, you might as well just get out." Spinning away from her unwelcome visitor, Megan groped behind her back to find the zipper of her dress so she could get the hell out of the ugly ass, super frickin' insulated jacquard wool meat broiling suit before she died of heat stroke. Thank God she was young and skinny enough to need nothing more underneath than a skimpy bra and thong, otherwise she might have dropped dead hours ago.

Megan struggled for a few moments, getting more and more angry the more she failed, and was just about to lose her shit once and for all from this last fucking straw when a gentle hand brushed hers out of the way and drew the zipper down in one easy, fluid motion. Olivia's cool fingertips raised goosebumps on Megan's steaming hot skin as they brushed downward -- the side of her breast, her rib cage, the curve of her waist. Olivia's hand lingered at Megan's hip for just a moment too long to be completely innocent or casual, but not too long to be offensive.

A shiver ran through Megan's body, and every fine hair stood on end at the combination of freedom from the constricting dress and that tantalizing touch.

"You'll feel better after a shower," Olivia whispered, and Megan realized that the other woman stood only an inch or two away. She felt Olivia's breath puff cool on her ear. "It's kind of hot in here -- why don't you let me help you get this off?"

Megan didn't have a chance to object -- not that she was about to anyway. The dress had to come off, right? Why not have it removed by a hot chick? How annoying she was on set didn't make a damn bit of difference... as long as she didn't talk a lot.

Those cool, soft hands grew warm and damp against Megan's overheated skin as they snaked beneath the straps of the dress and eased them down her shoulders. She sighed as those hands circled around, cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra for a heartbeat before drawing the bodice of the dress down and releasing them.

"You know, I've seen pictures of you nude all over the place. Wet, dry, posed, candid. You must have pretty close to the most naked photos on the Internet outside the porn industry. But even after all that, I'm still dying to see it in person," Olivia said, and turned Megan slowly to face her, using her free hand and then one foot to peel the dress the rest of the way off.

Megan had barely enough presence of mind to be glad for the teeny, sexy underwear she had chosen for its barely-thereness under that second-skin dress. Olivia took a deep, slow breath as she moved half a step away, those magic hands still resting on Megan's waist as she took her in slowly from head to foot.

Finally, that famous Olivia Wilde smile landed full strength on her with the effect of a lightning strike, and Megan Fox forgot all about the troubles and annoyances of the day.

"You are much hotter in person, and the underwear is..." Olivia shook her head, punctuating the observation by tracing the fine lace edge of the bra over Megan's cleavage, down to the matching strings of the thong on Megan's hips. Then she licked her lips like she was examining the selections at the world's finest buffet. "Perfect."

Megan closed her eyes and let her head tilt back, ready to purr like a kitten as Olivia's fingertips continued to explore the contours of her body: collarbones and shoulders and throat, along the line of her jaw and the tender flesh behind her ears, taking time to tease the hardening nipples beneath the lacy bra. Then they made the whole glorious, torturous journey in reverse, tickling her sides and belly before one hand finally cupped between Megan's legs.

"Hot," Olivia murmured. She slipped a finger beneath the thin cloth of the thong. "And God, you're wet. I had no idea you wanted me so much, Megan."

Megan had to brace her hands on Olivia's shoulders so she wouldn't join the dress in its puddle on the floor.

"I do!" she cried, surprised to hear the whining plea in her voice. Shocked by the sudden depth of her need.

Megan Fox never begged -- she commanded. She demanded, and she *got*. But five minutes in a miserable, sweaty trailer with Olivia Wilde, and she was begging for mercy like some desperate slob.

Fuck that.

Megan reached out with both hands, and with a single, fierce yank, tore open the light blouse Olivia was wearing (with no bra covering the amazing tits underneath) over a flimsy pair of short-shorts and flung the remains away, then crushed their bodies together, pushed one hand between Olivia's legs with the other, and took fierce possession of the other woman's mouth with her own.

"God!" Olivia gasped into the kiss, sliding her hand further between Megan's legs and sliding two fingers deep inside her.

"Yes. Fuck me," Megan growled against Olivia's lips, and mimicked her move, shoving her own fingers into Olivia's amazing wetness, and fucking her with all the energy she had left.

Which turned out to be a fairly surprising amount.

It was the hottest thing that had ever happened to her in a pretty damn hot life: the two of them screwing each other senseless, sweat pouring down their bodies as they tried to hold one another up at the same time. Sucking, biting each others' lips, ears, jaws, throats, anything in reach, the tiny space of the sauna hot trailer echoing with cries and gasps and desperate cursing as the pleasure rose, high tide coming in fast. They were humping each others' hands like the world was ending until Megan knew they were hurting themselves and each other, but neither gave a shit.

"OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH! FUCK!"

"Don't stop. Baby, baby, don't stop. Oh God, it's so good. I'm gonna come. Oh God!"

It was impossible to tell anymore whose nonsense was whose, whose sweat, whose hands, whose cunt, whose steaming, dripping wetness, and in one whiteout moment, none of it mattered anyway. They clung together, biting and scratching and jerking and screaming in each other's arms as they rocketed over the top together and plummeted down the other side of a mind-bending orgasm.

There was barely enough energy and will left between them to stumble that last couple of feet and collapse onto Megan's surprisingly comfortable bed at the back of the trailer.

"Fuck," Olivia panted, using one hand to slide her sweat soaked hair out of her flushed face.

"Yeah," Megan agreed. "That pretty much covers it."

They lay there for a while on their backs, side by side, absently caressing each other's sweaty, sex-musky bodies as they stared up at the ceiling and let their heart rates come back down from coronary level.

"When's your next call?" Megan finally asked, tired of pretending they were lying in a sauna when they could easily be eating and/or bathing and/or fucking each other senseless in one of their plush, air-conditioned rooms back at the hotel instead.

Olivia turned her head and gave a tired, but sly smile. "I'm done for today. That's why I figured now was a good time to come over and, uh... make peace with you."

Megan couldn't help a chuckle. "Interesting diplomacy method, there."

Olivia rolled over, circling one of Megan's nipples with a fingertip while she suckled on her earlobe. "Worked, didn't it."

Megan turned to face her, and got lost in a long, drugging kiss for a good while before she finally replied, "I don't know yet. Negotiations are ongoing. I'm done for today too. What do you say we call for a car and continue this temporary truce back at my room? I've already got a standing order for champagne on ice and fresh strawberries with cream."

"Mmmm, deal," Olivia said, letting her hand slip back down between Megan's legs and slowly slipping in to circle her clit. "You drive a hard bargain, Fox. But I have a counteroffer before we change locations. Any objections?"

Megan arched hard against Olivia's caress as she hit the perfect spot. "God, no. Just don't stop."


End file.
